Memories
by Igloo the Almighty
Summary: As the 1987 incarnation of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza closes its doors and the staff begins packing everything up, the Puppet looks back on the past, and struggles to decide which group of his 'children' he wants to stay with. (Rated T for violence later on; cover image created by Scott Cawthon.)
1. Tears

The Puppet wasn't quite sure what to think of her current situation.

Really, it was quite a cruel twist of fate that he was still in his own box, something he usually would've considered normal.

But this time, it wasn't, for one simple reason: she was surrounded by the parts of some of his beloved children.

The marionette scanned around the room rather somberly, stopping every so often to stare at the pieces of the animatronics he so dearly loved, before moving her gaze beyond them, particularly the mangled white fox. Really, he still had difficulty believing what that child of his had done to put them all in here. He slowly looked over at another box a few feet away, where three of the five children he loved the most were tucked away in a peaceful slumber.

He wished he could rip that horrible smile plastered on his face clean off.

As the Puppet stared blankly at the floor, his vision instinctively snapped to something which had fallen out of a nearby box. He glanced around, making sure that there were no staff members coming in to put away the remaining decorations and furniture. Upon assuring that that was not the case, he slowly rose out of the box, casting a towering shadow over the parts around her. Carefully, so as to not knock a mask or arm out of his box, he drifted, almost like a ghost, onto the floor of the Parts and Service room.

In seconds, he was over at the other box, bending down to scoop up the object on the floor in his large fingers. He was about to simply toss it into the box again when he took a good look at it.

He regretted it immediately.

Staring back at him with large, unmoving blue eyes was a small plush bear. A tiny black top hat adorned its head, while its soft, light brown belly was decorated with a little bow tie of the same color. The tall black figure shook as he clutched the Freddy plushie in her hands, not daring to damage it. He had seen it all the time at the Prize Corner with the other plushies, but now he couldn't bring herself to put it away. After all, it was quite possibly the final memory he would have of any of his favorite children.

_The final memory._

The marionette couldn't help it. The makeup on his face already resembled tears, but now it felt as if they were as well. He shuddered, curling up and hugging the plushie, sobbing.

He did so for several hours without pause, until he at last fell asleep.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So, here it is, my first fanfic! It took me a while to decide who the main character would be and what it would be about, but eventually I decided on our good ol' puppet pal. This chapter might be a bit short, but trust me; they'll get longer as they go.

R&R would be appreciated! 8D


	2. Murder

_"..and so, I am pleased to declare Fredbear's Family Diner OPEN!"_

The Puppet opened his eyes, only to find that everything was different.

The first thing he noted was that he was much, _much _shorter than before, compared to his original towering frame. Now, he seemed to be the height of...

A child.

_Oh, no,_ he thought.

He attempted to look around, only to find that he _couldn't._

He couldn't do _anything._ He was a spectator in the body he once owned.

Upon manging to calm himself, the marionette collected his thoughts. From what he could guess, he was still asleep, but dreaming of the past. As he focused on what his past self was looking at, he was able to confirm it. He was watching a wave of families flood into a small brick building. A small sign was placed above the doorway, reading, in colorful, bubbly letters: _FREDBEAR'S FAMILY DINER. _The top corners of the sign were decorated with, cartoon bear ears, one on each corner.

He could only hope that this dream would take a turn for the better before the end.

His past self was separated from the rest of the crowd, a small lonely dot out of the reach of the swirling mass. Slowly, he began wandering away from the crowd, going to look into the windows. He stared intently into the dining area, peering in at the little stage that absorbed attention in the room, in addition to the present nearby. Slowly, the boy let out a great sigh as he saw other children - his age - rush into the diner in a buzz.

He saw them eating their food and playing, and having a good time. He saw the lights dim, as someone spoke in the dining area.

He saw the curtains of the little stage draw back to reveal the brown bear that he would later consider one of her children.

And, indeed, he saw the box burst open, giving a tall, black figure with a white mask the opportunity to rise out.

Day after day, the Puppet's past self had come back to the pizzeria, wanting to see the bear and the puppet again and again, and see everyone having fun. He had gone to his home nearby and asked his parents many, many times if he could go in, to _truly_ experience the wonders that little building had to offer, but again and again, he was told the same thing. _"We don't have enough money, sweetie. We might not have enough for a while."_

But that didn't stop him. For years, he went to look into the diner and see what it had to offer. He saw it expand, saw more and more kids flood into the larger dining area and gather around the second stage as the red fox appeared from behind the purple curtains. He saw the stage become wider as the curtains would then part to reveal a duo, and later a trio, touching the hearts of children.

But that puppet never changed. Not until the year where _it_ happened.

He had run out of the house after a particularly bad argument with his parents, tears streaming like waterfalls down his face as he solemnly watched the bear wander around one of the rooms, delighting children with cake. Really, he didn't even quite _watch_ him - he barely acknowledged the events, too distracted by his sadness to notice or care. It was because of this, the Puppet supposed, that he didn't hear the car coming.

He only looked up to acknowledge the man in purple when he was standing right over him, grinning. _"Little boy, didn't your parents teach you that you shouldn't go out alone?"_ He said, that horrible smile on his face failing to change even as he drew a knife from his pocket.

He was too petrified to move, and could only let the tears fall harder as the knife dug through his small frame.

As his senses failed, he thought he could hear a faint whisper. He hadn't quite realized what it was then - it seemed to be a deep, garbled clutter of letters - but now that he was reflecting upon it, the marionette figured out just what he had heard.

_SAVE HIM._

And saved he was.

Just not in the way he expected.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Ta-daaa, Chapter 2! This is where things will really start to pick up. Once again, I'd greatly appreciate R&R!

About the FNaF 3 teaser trailer - Yes, I saw it. In fact, there'll be a small reference to it at the end of the story, so stay tuned! C8


End file.
